The Memory Box
by quietrunaway
Summary: Severus is taking a well-deserved rest over summer break when the sister of his unrequited love contacts him, asking him to take something off her hands. Will he go to collect it? First ever fanfic - please read and review!
1. The Unexpected Letter

The Memory Box

Chapter 1: The Unexpected Letter

_Snape,_

_You will probably consider it strange that I have decided to contact you like this, but I believe you will find the reason to be worthwhile. No, it's not about _the boy_, so you can put that thought out of your mind entirely. _

_I've been doing some housecleaning recently and have stumbled upon a box of _her_ old things. Obviously I don't need or want any of it, and it's only cluttering up my home, which has otherwise been rid of _her_ entirely. _

_If you want to keep it, come to 4 Privet Drive on Sunday evening. Do not try to reply unless you want to send your message the "normal way". I don't want those freakish birds drawing any attention to our otherwise regular home._

_Sincerely,_

_Petunia Dursley_

Severus Snape crinkled the letter in his hand after re-reading it for, perhaps, the 12th time as he paced the floor of his Spinner's End home. As usual, Petunia never failed to insult the wizarding world in any circumstance. Near-hatred and what he suspected to be jealously practically leaked out of every word. He shook his black-haired, greasy head in exasperation.

Petunia Dursley, (or, as he knew her before, Evans) always seemed jealous of her vibrant, charismatic, younger sister Lily, who also happened to be a witch. She was also, by extension, jealous of Severus. Severus also suspected that she held a deep, dark loathing for him, that she kept secret from the rest of the world. After all, he was the one responsible for "taking" Lily away from her by recognizing her unique gift. He realized that it would be difficult to have a sibling be the bearer of a special talent and not yourself. But, rather than being kind and supportive, Petunia shut Lily out her life completely at the first opportunity.

Lily, whose warmth and friendliness made his awful childhood bearable, whose intelligence and sense of fun attracted him from the very first time he laid eyes on her at the age of eleven, whose beauty and charm made his heart ache every time he looked at her. After covering his face with his hands, Severus quickly snapped out of his reverie, noticing that he had sunk into his armchair. He mentally berated himself for letting his guard down and remembering _her_ again.

His problem in thinking about Lily was that it was always a mixture of bliss and misery. Remembering how happy he had been with her came with the price of admitting that he had lost her; she was gone forever. To think about her life meant thinking about her death and he was never quite sure whether the euphoria was worth the soul-splitting pain that came with it. For this reason, he was wary of dashing over to 4 Privet Drive, snatching the box out of Petunia's bony arms, and hastily poring over its contents.

Still, it was not as if he could make a conscious choice to erase her from his memory for the sake of his peace of mind. Lily had haunted him for fifteen years and she would haunt him until his death, whether he liked it or not. If all the lonely years had taught him anything, it was that he simply could not let go of her.


	2. Number 4 Privet Drive

With this idea firmly planted in his mind, he grabbed his travelling cloak from its hook beside the front door and apparated to the park at the end of Privet Drive. After overcoming the initial vomit-inducing sensation that comes with apparating, Severus started to walk the four blocks to 4 Privet Drive.

As he passed the nearly identical houses, immaculately kept lawns, and perfectly trimmed shrubbery, he contemplated some of the repercussions that could be faced from his presence at the Dursley household. First and foremost, he would have to converse with Petunia, something he had been trying all of his life to avoid. He would probably startle Petunia's husband and children (if she had any) with his decidedly wizarding apparel. Above all, there was a strong likelihood that he would see Potter, which would be as awkward as it would be unpleasant. But these repercussions meant little as he had already made up his mind.

After reaching number four, Severus took a deep breath and slowly walked up the driveway and front steps. He paused hesitantly at the front door, hoping Potter wouldn't answer, before knocking three times. Mercifully, Petunia answered the door.

Bony and horse-faced as he remembered, she shot him a look of deepest loathing, which he was quick to return, before reluctantly inviting him in. Deciding not to bother with the customary pleasantries, Petunia drawled,

"Wait here, I'll get it." She then turned toward the stairs and yelled,

"BOY!"

Severus didn't fully understand until a skinny, dark-haired boy with glasses appeared at the top of the staircase. Harry Potter. It quickly became apparent that Petunia had no intention of actually getting the box herself. When Harry finally looked at the door and realized who was standing there, his green eyes widened with shock.

"S-Snape?" he stuttered. "W-what?... W-why?..."

Severus decided that it wasn't an appropriate time to snarkily enforce the "Professor" rule, so he kept his mouth shut.

"Never mind, never mind!" Petunia snapped. "Just go and find the box in the attic with your mother's name written on it. Sloppily, no doubt, as it was _her_ handwriting."

Harry, with an bewildered expression on his face, turned around and headed for the attic staircase. At the bottom of the stairs, Severus and Petunia started at each other, an awkward tension in the air. After a few seconds time, when Harry was well out of earshot, Severus broke the silence,

"So, I see you care deeply for the boy. Or is this kind of treatment merely a show for guests?" he offered sarcastically.

"Very funny Snape." She rolled her eyes. "Though I had no idea you knew the boy. Care to explain?"

"I teach him at Hogwarts," he answered quickly. "Potions."

"Well, he doesn't seem exactly thrilled to see you here, which strikes me as odd, considering how close you _were_" - she was careful to emphasize the "were" – "with his mother."

Petunia smirked. Severus understood what she was implying, but countered defensively,

"What strikes me as odd is that your nephew, who lives under your care, has attended the same school for four years and you haven't yet bothered to ask him about any of his teachers?"

At that moment, Petunia and Severus noticed Harry at the top of the stairs clutching a small wooden box, looking as if he wanted to sink into the wall he was leaning on.

"I found it," Harry said quietly as he walked down the stairs, "but it's locked."

"Wait here," Petunia sighed. "I'll get the key."


	3. Conversation

Her high heels clicked angrily against the pristine hardwood floor as she left Harry and Severus alone in the entranceway. Harry stared at the floor, feeling much stranger than an average 14 year-old boy should. The surprise, confusion, embarrassment, and anger that he felt were echoed on his face and in his body language.

Severus took the time to really look at Harry. He was thin – much thinner than he should be. His posture was more hunched at the Dursley residence than it was at Hogwarts. He had bags under his eyes – probably from staying up at night, trying to finish at least some of his schoolwork without interference from unfortunate family.

He thought about this for a while. It sounded all too familiar to him. The thinness, the hunched appearance, and the constant lack of sleep were all things that _he_, himself suffered from as a teenager.  
No – this was Potter! The son of the man he had hated from day one! Why should he feel remorse? _Harry _was able to shake off the treatment he had received from his aunt and uncle when he got to Hogwarts. He wasn't.

But then Harry decided to look at him. His eyes bored straight into Severus' very soul and it took every ounce of his spirit to not look away. His eyes were a bright emerald green and – exactly the same shape and colour as his mothers'. They burned with the same passion and intensity as Lily's had after he had said those words. In fact, every single time he looked at Harry, he felt like he was reliving the worst mistake he had ever made. Seeing the face of the man he had loathed for all of his life with the eyes of the woman he had loved was like having his heart cut out with a spoon.

By now, Harry had given up the pretense of acting shy and reserved. He was fifteen years old – almost a man – and had decided that he would no longer be left in the dark about matters concerning his dead mother, especially by someone who loathed him and his entire family.

"Er… Professor? Why exactly did you come here?"

"It's none of your concern, Potter."

"Actually, it is, Snape," Harry countered. "What do you want with an old box of my mother's?"

Severus thought for a moment.

"Dumbledore feels that your mother could have had some insight into the Dark Lord's plan of attack. She worked with a secret society that worked to bring down the Dark Arts in all its forms."

"How would a box of stuff from when she was a teenager help Dumbledore today?" said Harry, skeptically.

"Well, I don't know. Dumbledore doesn't take it upon himself to confide every single detail of his hypotheses in me."

"I have no idea why Dumbledore might want it, but I think that I have the right to at least take a look. After all, she was my mother."


End file.
